Remember the time
by p.j.Parker42
Summary: "I told you then, that if I were dying, I would call you," he paused to catch a breath. "I'm calling now." Angsty little two shot. Set in season 6. Not a char. death, pinky promise.
1. Chapter 1

**So, hi there! This is my first fanfic story ever, and I am not a native speaker so I apologize in advance for all typos and any confusing language usage. Review! Please, it will make my day better :3**

 **Disclamer: I do not, in any form or way, own The Mentalist or it's characters. I barely own this computer.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Remember the time...**

Special agent Teresa Lisbon couldn't believe it. He's been missing again, since 10 a.m. that day to be precise. It was one of his Catch-the-killer-all-by-myself scams, definitely. And today, it also happened to be Don't-tell-Lisbon-about-it-or-else-she'll-talk-you-out-of-it as well.

'Great!' she thought to herself. 'Right what we needed.' While Cho and Fischer were interviewing victim's girlfriend in the interrogation room, he just took off and left them out cold, saying he has a hunch.

She was pacing the bullpen, giving up calling him 20 minutes ago, as he wouldn't answer. Now she was considering bursting into Abbots office, during a very important meeting that took place at the moment. Unprofessional? Yes. But inevitable.

Just as she was about to do something - probably irrational, that she would regret later on – her phone rang. Caller id: Patrick Jane.  
"Jane, I swear to God, you better have a damn good reason for this..." she began to speak, when the FBI consultant cut her off.  
"Lisbon, don't speak, please, I don't have much time," pain evident in his voice.  
All remained anger left Lisbon when she her friend and worry crept up her spine.  
"Jane, where are you? Are you all right?"  
"I-I've been shot, but that's not why-" he began.  
"Oh my gosh," gasped Lisbon, panic settling in as she ran to Wylie's desk and ordered: "Wylie, track Jane's phone NOW!"  
Wylie spun around in his chair and started his task without questioning, sensing the urgency in his fellow agent's voice.  
She put Jane on speaker and asked him: "Jane, how bad is it? What happened?"  
"Well, I was right as usual. Victim's brother did it, because of his unspoken love to his brother's girlfriend and well, not quite enough wheels in his head. He wasn't too happy hearing my theory. I..I didn't expect him having a gun, it-it wasn't a part of the plan. But Lisbon-"

"-Got it!" announced Wylie and almost sprang from his seat. He put the map with a blinking red dot – Jane's cell – on the big screen.

"Here's the location. It's a chalet in the woods, next to a lake, used by a fishermen. About an hour drive from here, if the traffic's good," he informed her.

"Lisbon...Lisbon...?" came Jane's voice trough the phone.

In that moment, Cho and Fisher came out of the interrogation room, followed by dead man's girlfriend and her lawyer.

"What's going on?" asked Fisher with a frown on her face.

"Jane's been shot, we need an ambulance there ASAP."

"Lisbon...Listen-" Jane tried to gain her attention.

Cho looked at the map and said: "We'll have to take the chopper. I'll call it in. It's going to be ready in a few minutes."

"I'll tell Abbot," said Fisher.

" _Teresa!_ " Jane called. Hearing her first name being used, Lisbon focused back on Jane, whom she's been ignoring completely.

"Just listen to me... please," he begged. "Remember the case we had at the biosystems facility? In Los Corrador?" he asked, strength leaving him with every passing minute.

"Yeah, the one where you tricked me into believing a deadly virus has been released. Why?" she asked him back confused, not sure why this has to do anything with the current situation.

"I told you then, that if I were dying, I would call you," he paused to catch a breath. "I'm calling now."

Lisbon felt the air being knocked out of her. Wylie paled and suddenly felt like an intruder and even Cho looked up from his conversation with a pilot over the phone.

"No, Jane... Just hang in there, you hear me? You are **not** dying. The team is leaving in a few minutes with a doctor and they will take you to a hospital."

Abbot came running out of his office with Fisher on his tail.

"Chopper's ready." said Cho. "We're leaving in two."

Abbot nodded before composing himself and ordering: "Fisher stay here and report on Jane's condition. Lisbon, keep him talking."

Lisbon nodded absently, then Cho and Abbot left to the elevator.

"There's no way they're gonna get to me in time, Lisbon," said Jane with a groan. "I've lost too much blood already."

"No, Jane, listen: You're going to be okay, you hear me?" she said reassuringly, wishing she would believe herself. "You're going to be okay."

"Hey," he tried to comfort her "Look at it from the bright side: at least you won't- you won't have to punch me in the nose... this time."

A sob escaped Lisbon – typical Jane. Joking around and trying to cheer her up even at a time like this.

"Will you just stay on the line with me?" ' _till the end_ ' was left unspoken.

"Of course," she breathed.

"Do you remember the time we pretended to be crazy and we tricked that women into believing she was hallucinating?" he said after a few minutes of shallow breathing.

"Yeah I do. That was fun," Lisbon answered, small smile forming on her lips.

"Or the time I got Rigsby high, so we could catch the killer who was selling victim's pot seeds?"

"Yeah, I remember that. He was pretty stoned," she laughed.

"Or when I bought you a pony..."

Wylie was taping on his keyboard, not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation, which was for a while now, on a very personal level. Fisher on the other hand had to, to report to Abbot about Jane's state. They both knew it was a good thing, that he was still talking, but they could all hear his voice getting weaker and weaker.

"I liked the time we danced. At the reunion, you know. We should do it sometime," Lisbon spoke then.

"We should have," he corrected her quietly. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not here, not in front of whole room of people, not in front of him. They needed her to be professional, he needed her to stay strong. She sat down on his couch, as her knees gave up below her.

"Jane-" she began, but he stopped her before she could continue.

"Lisbon, the reason I called was, to thank you. I know I've been hard to work with and you had to clean up messes behind me, bail me out of trouble and save my sorry ass on a daily basis. I've been a jerk and yet you stuck with me, all the way till the end," he said, pain finally taking over him.

"You've seen the worst of me and you kept me sane... I just...I want you to know how grateful I am."

Fisher stopped pacing and said to Lisbon: "They're close now. They'll be there in less than two minutes."

"Hear that Jane?" she asked him, voice breaking. "They'll be there any minute now. Just hang in there." She gripped the leather on his couch in desperation.

He continued, ignoring, or not hearing what she just said, his voice not more than a pained whisper now: "I'm sorry, Teresa. Say hi to everyone. Love...you."

"Jane!" she called him. "Don't do this to me, Jane! Ja-Patrick! Can you hear me? Patrick!" She desperately tried to talk to him again, to hear his voice just one more time, as help was on it's way. But all she could hear were shallow, painful breaths, before devastating silence. Mocking her for trying to reach him. She finally let the silent tears roll down her cheeks.

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 **Brace yourselves, this _is_ a two-shot, and I am not a sadist to kill our favourite consultant.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well hello there! I now represent to you the second part of this story. Thank you all for your lovely reviews, you made me grin into the screen like a complete fool. It means a lot, really.**

 **I might post an epilogue after this, because I'm really fond of this story. Who knows ^.^**

 **The disclaimer's still on: I own nothing.**

 **Without further delay: Enjoy!**

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 _She was standing quietly among a small crowd of people, listening to the prayer being spoken. It was a warm spring day, and a light breeze ruffled her hair. Everything was blooming in vivid colors and rays of sunshine were filtering down trough the trees. The day just couldn't be more perfect. Then again, she never really did understand why in the movies, there was always rainy weather when it came to funerals._

 _Everything was a blur to Teresa Lisbon. Rather than focusing on the priest's words, that seemed meaningless and hollow to her, she looked around at the people who attended his funeral alongside her. There weren't really many people, she would have expected more, if it wasn't him lying in that coffin. The team was there, so were Rigsby and Van Pelt. In the far right corner, Pete and Sam were standing, and even Hightower showed up. Everyone was staring blankly ahead of them. Lisbon wanted to shoot them all. Nobody was crying, not even her. Nobody showed any hint of emotion at his loss. So neither did she. She didn't cry at her mother's funeral, nor her father's, so she wasn't going to do it now._

 _It was time to say final goodbyes. Everyone else simply looked at him one last time, before walking away. She waited for them to be out of sight before she stepped to the coffin. He was lying there in one of his three-piece-suits, just like the one he was wearing on the day he went missing. He looked pale, and his blue eyes were open, glassy, which was weird, because dead people had their eyes closed. She stepped closer, wanting to say something, anything, but no words left her mouth. She just watched in horror while blood dripped out from the wooden coffin edges._

Teresa Lisbon woke up with a start, cold sweat poured down her forehead. She was still in the hospital. It has all been just a dream.

A week has passed since Patrick Jane went missing, since he was shot and barely kept alive. When the team arrived at the chalet he was lying in a pool of his own blood and his heart wasn't beating. The doctor who came along brought him back by the skin of his teeth and patched him up just enough, that he made it to the hospital. The sight was not a pleasant one, and Cho and Abbot were glad, that Lisbon didn't have to witness it. She drove straight to the hospital, breaking the speed limit and not even caring. After a five-hour surgery, one of the doctors finally approached her in the waiting room and told her he was alive. She collapsed down on the floor right there, in the middle of the waiting room, relief washing trough her. He was alive. In critical condition, with enormous amount of blood loss, in medically induced coma, but alive.

After a while, they removed him from recovery and let her see him in the ICU. He was as white as the bed sheets on which he was lying with tubes and monitors surrounding him, making all sorts of beeping and humming noises. But he was alive, and for that moment, that was all that mattered.

For the whole week, she didn't leave his side for more than a few minutes – either a bathroom break or quick stop at the cafeteria for lunch and a new dosage of caffeine. The members of the team visited daily and Cho stopped at her house twice, to bring her a fresh set of clothes. He tried to convince her to go home and get some good night sleep, but she refused to leave his bedside.

So, it didn't surprise her to fall asleep on the uncomfortable hospital chair, next to his bed, holding his hand. Only if she wouldn't wake up from terrible nightmares every time she closed her eyes. She began to understand Jane's insomnia now.

Lisbon stood up, shaking herself briefly before she walked to the bathroom and splashed a cold water on her face. She looked up in the mirror to observe her reflection. She was a mess.

She sat back on her spot in the chair and took a hold of his hand again. It was late in the afternoon and distanced buzz of the hospital with soft light of the setting sun peering trough the window made Lisbon start to doze off again, when she felt him stir. He squeezed her hand lightly and started to mumble something she couldn't make out.

"Nurse!" she called and pressed the button above his bed. A nurse came rushing in to check his vitals, while he was waking up slowly, eyes still closed. After stating that everything looked normal, she left, informing Lisbon that she will be back when he's fully awaken.

He started to open his eyes slowly, taking in his surrounding. Finally he noticed her beside him.

"Hey," she breathed, voice raw with emotion. He wanted to answer, but grimaced, when only a groan came out of his raspy throat. He motioned to the bedside table where a water bottle was placed earlier by a nurse. Lisbon helped him sit up, feeling guilty every time he winced when an area around his stomach slightly moved. After he took few short sips out of the bottle, he cleared his throat and asked her: "Who are you?"

Lisbon felt a wave of different emotions pass her. Fear. Worry. Insecurity. Shock. Rejection. Worry.

But then a weaker version of his usual 100-watt smile lit up his face and he croaked out: "Got-cha."

She wanted to be angry with him, she really did, but she couldn't help herself to feel just _so_ relieved he was alive and awake. The tears that have been threatening to spill for whole week finally rolled down her cheeks as she laughed at his stupid joke.

"Hey," he said "You don't have to cry, the joke wasn't _that_ bad."

She laughed again and wiped the tears with the back of her free hand.

"Sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot in the stomach. How long have I been out?" he asked her.

"Nearly a week. But that was expected, considering what you've been trough."

He nodded before resting his eyes for a little bit. "Did you catch the guy?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, the very next day. Damned fool went to a bar and got himself so drunk, he bragged about killing a cop so the bartender called the police."

"Not a real smart cookie, this one, ey?"

A nurse came in then, to check on Jane. Lisbon backed away to give her some space. Nurse checked the IV lines and his chart and told him that everything looked normal.

"When will I be able to leave?" he asked the nurse.

"Mr. Jane, you _just_ woke up. You need to rest and fully recover. If you have any further questions, the doctor will be here in the morning," she informed him before giving him another dosage of morphine.

Lisbon sat back and held his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. She brushed her thumb over his knuckles.

"You are going to be okay," she smiled.

"Guess you owe me a punch to the nose then... " he said dozing off, morphine already kicking in.

She smiled one more time before before she rested her head on his bed. Listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat she fell into a peaceful slumber for the first time in a week.


	3. Epilogue

**Hello lovelies! An epilogue, just for you, since you asked so nicely. Thank you again for your wonderful reviews 3**

 **Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine, yada, yada, yada...**

 **Enjoy!**

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Sun was setting behind Lisbon's back, it's light making soft shadows in the bullpen. She decided to take a short break from paperwork and stepped to the window. She admired beautiful colors of tree leafs, in which they turned at autumn. That was one thing she grew to like about FBI offices: glass walls that let in so much light. From the spot she was standing, she could see people entering – or at this time of day – leaving the building. She remembered how she hated all this glass, when she first arrived here, stating that it makes her feel like a fish in aquarium. She really just missed old offices back at the CBI in Sacramento. They were crowded, dim, but cosy. And they were her second home.

She settled in to the new offices eventually, but mostly it was the people she really had to get used to, not the place itself. The team became her new family, the one she missed while she was in Washington. Of course Rigsby and Van Pelt visited her occasionally, and Jane wrote her letters, but it just wasn't the same.

Now, she felt like home again. CBI, FBI, what's the difference? She again had a nagging, but extremely understanding boss, her longtime coworker Cho, whom she respected not only as a great agent, but also as a dear friend, Wylie and Fischer, her new fellow agents and of course: her favourite consultant.

Six months have passed since that terrible phone call and his wound was almost healed. He was still careful when it came to physical activities, but otherwise everything was just as it was before.

Well, almost everything. Something has changed about him. Every time he had a 'hunch', he called her, or left a sticky note on her desk. He checked in on her, just to talk, to tell her he was okay. And something has changed between them also. Something, she couldn't just place yet. After that day, they fell back into their usual routine. He brought her coffee every morning, and they sat on his couch, sipping from their cups. Only now, maybe they sat a little bit closer. And when he slept on his couch she watched him and listened to his breathing just a little bit longer. Just to make sure he was okay.

Sun was now no longer to be seen, so she retreated to her desk to finish up the reports. Another thing that hasn't changed: all this bureaucracy.

She saw him approach with a grin on his face and a mischievous spark in his eyes.

"Whatever nonsense you're doing, I think it's enough for today," he said as he stepped around her desk.

"Is that so? Well you know, if it wasn't for you, there wouldn't be half as much of this nonsense I'm doing."

He picked up her coat and waited for her to stand up from her chair. She let him help her put on the coat and move her hair from underneath it, while she playfully rolled her eyes at him.

"So if may I ask where are we going?"

"First, we're grabbing some food, because you skipped lunch _again_ ," he stated as in matter of factly.  
"And then my dear, I'm taking you dancing."

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 **Thoughts?**


End file.
